se upon his foes.
My trusty warriors, people of the sea,
Be this your charge, no less,--and bear to him
My clear commandment, that he take this boy
Home to my fatherland, and make him known
To Telamon, and Eriboea too,
My mother. Let him tend them in their age.
And, for mine armour, let not that be made
The award of Grecian umpires or of him
Who ruined me. But thou, named of the shield[3],
Eurysakes, hold mine, the unpierceable
Seven-hided buckler, and by the well stitched thong
Grasp firm and wield it mightily.--The rest
Shall lie where I am buried.--Take him now,
Quickly, and close the door. No tears! What! weep
Before the tent? How women crave for pity!
Make fast, I say. No wise physician dreams
With droning charms to salve a desperate sore.

CH. There sounds a vehement ardour in thy words
That likes me not. I fear thy sharpened tongue.

TEC. Aias, my lord, what act is in thy mind?

AI. Inquire not, question not; be wise, thou'rt best.

TEC. How my heart sinks! Oh, by thy child, by Heaven,
I pray thee on my knees, forsake us not!

AI. Thou troublest me. What! know'st thou not that Heaven
Hath ceased to be my debtor from to-day?

TEC. Hush! Speak not so.

AI. Speak thou to those that hear.

TEC. Will you not hear me?

AI. Canst thou not be still?

TEC. My fears, my fears!

AI. (_to the_ Attendants). Come, shut me in, I say.

TEC. Oh, yet be softened!

AI. 'Tis a foolish hope,
If thou deem'st now to mould me to thy will.
[Aias _is withdrawn. Exit_ Tecmessa

CHORUS.
Island of glory! whom the glowing eyes I 1
Of all the wondering world immortalize,
Thou, Salamis, art planted evermore,
Happy amid the wandering billows' roar;
While I--ah, woe the while!--this weary time,
By the green wold where flocks from Ida stray,
Lie worn with fruitless hours of wasted prime,
Hoping--ah, cheerless hope!--to win my way
Where Hades' horrid gloom shall hide me from the day.

Aias is with me, yea, but crouching low, I 2
Where Heaven-sent madness haunts his overthrow,
Beyond my cure or tendance: woful plight!
Whom thou, erewhile, to head the impetuous fight,
Sent'st forth, thy conquering champion. Now he feeds
His spirit on lone paths, and on us brings
Deep sorrow; and all his former peerless deeds
Of prowess fall like unremembered things
From Atreus'